Got my manager fired, took his job
I used to have this boss who was really good at the technical part of his job but had no HR training or people skills. He'd helped build his organisation up from its origins as a two-man operation, helped squeeze a rival out of the market and establish us as the dominant player, but he was clearly better at the operations side of things and didn't really have a personality suited to managing all the people that he was suddenly in charge of. As a result, there was a pretty high rate of attrition.

So one time we were working on an important project - we'd been given this pep speech about how it was vital to the company's advancement and all that - and I was tasked with a humble job of monitoring and collating some stats. I noticed an anomoly, and since everyone was so serious about this project, I took the anomoly to my manager who dismissed me out of hand, not realising that our boss was standing right behind him. I won't bore you with the detail, but it turned out that I was right and my manager was wrong and the boss wasn't pleased.

Not long after that, my manager fucked something else up, or so our boss thought. I privately thought it was an understandable mistake and I was actually with him at the time, but our boss was still pissed off at my manager from when I'd showed him up earlier, so he blamed him and just terminated him on the spot.

So it turned out that I had dropped him in the shit. I felt sort of bad, but I have to admit I thought it sounded pretty cool when the boss told him that he'd failed him for the last time. Plus I got a promotion - result! Besides, who the fuck else could it have been all the way out there on Hoth?
(filthytruck, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 12:41, 7 replies)

I'd have gotten away with it if it wasn't for that pesky kid.
One summer my mates and I decided to build a den in a haystack. We totally aced this one. It had secret rooms, tunnels and all the mod-cons that a hay-den can have. Proud of our achievements we invited a few of the outsiders to have a look at our handiwork but they weren't skilled in the stealthy ways of den building and we soon got rumbled by a farmhand. I watched from the safety of one of the secret rooms as my friends were lined up against a wall and given a good talking-to.

Something was muttered, one of my 'friends' pointed at the barn.

"And you can come out too you little shit. If you don't come out immediately this will end badly." Said the farmhand looking directly at my hidey-hole. I held firm for at least 5 seconds before shamefully joining the ass-kicking line.

I'm not proud of the next bit but she told us that we'd have to wait until the farmer came back for a proper kicking as we'd caused a lot of money's worth of damage to the bales.
This would be very bad news as the farmer knew my dad. There was only one thing for it. I cried, begged and pleaded - tears so convincing that the farmhand took pity and let us scarper.

"Nice one Airman Gabber! Great acting."
"It was easy. I'm good at drama lessons."

I wasn't acting.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 11:57, 2 replies)

I once got a girl pregnant
But her dance partner took the blame. Fucked myself up when I told the doc it'd been me, though.
(McChinaman banned, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 11:18, 3 replies)

This one time, right
I went on Jim'll Fix It and was invited backstage.
(Bappage, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 10:50, 3 replies)

Not me but my Uncle.
While driving back to his house few christmas's ago with family in the car with him a prat in his done up shopping cart starts tailgating him down the road.

Now my uncle was doing the speed limit (well maybe a bit above) and it was near on impossible to overtake at this stretch of road. My uncle (still young at heart) knew this road pretty well and knew there was s straight coming up where the road widened that cops would always be at with their speed cameras. So just after coming on to that section he waves prat ahead and they floor it.

2 minutes later my uncle sees the blue flashing lights of a cop car with the prat looking exceptionally sheepish as he sails past.

I know its not really his fault for the prat getting caught but i'm bored at work.

It did kinda backfire though as my young cousin (his daughter) burst into tears that her daddy would allow something like that to happen to the poor man.

Length? 5 or 6km of a staright and 200 or so of a blubbering kid
(Samantha Bricks Better half done a poo on, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 10:16, Reply)

I got my mate Tommy in trouble.
I was messing about and spilt the paint. It went on the floor and everything. I blamed Tommy, told the teacher he'd pushed me. He hadn't. He had to sit next to the teacher all afternoon.

The shame all these years...
( Ya What Skiddlyboop, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 9:53, 2 replies)

Someone posted a joke off of this website I own..
..and, well..
(DefinitelyNOTAmorousBadgerOhNo, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 9:40, 3 replies)

oi, where's my fucking credit for this one?
Does this count as getting ScaryDuck in trouble for being a dreadful thief?
( BraynDedd Natasha Kaplinsky's labia majora, Fri 19 Oct 2012, 7:48, 13 replies)

I don't have a story to relay on this subject, more an allegory.
A baby bird was sat by the side of the road one sunny day and was enjoying the feel of the sun warming its wings. Unfortunately a passing carriage went by and the horses drawing it chose that moment to unload their bowels. The baby bird found itself buried in horse shit and just about managed to shake its head free and get enough height to breathe easy above the surface of the horse crap.

After a while the sun hardened the poo and the bird realised it would probably just have to wait until the sun dried up the manure and cracked open, letting it escape. So, apart from the actual inconvenience of being immobilised, it was still a nice sunny day with a fresh breeze carrying away the smell of the ordure, and thanking his lucky stars, the baby bird began to sing.

The tweeting from a low level attracted the attention of a passing hungry fox. The fox wandered up and enquired of the bird "What makes you so happy, my fine feathered friend, what with you being buried in horse crap?"

The naive bird replied "Oh, but Mr Fox, the day is lovely, the breeze is refreshing and I shall soon be free of this scatological prison, why be anything other than grateful?"

The fox thought about this and asked the baby bird "But what if I set you free from your unfortunate trap right now?"

Considering the offer for a moment, the innocent bird exclaimed "Oh Mr Fox, that would be simply wonderful! Please, yes, I would love for you to help me escape!".

So the fox pawed at the muck until he had broken the crust and the baby bird was able to struggle free.

"Oh Mr Fox," the baby bird twittered, "You have done me such a service, how ever can I repay you?" in earnest.

"Well," said the fox grinning evilly, "This is where you find out" and gobbled him up in an instant.

So there are morals to the story:-

1. Not everyone who shits on you from a great height is your enemy
2. Not everyone who gets you out of the shit is your friend.
3. If you're up to your neck in shit, shut the fuck up.
( Rotating Wobbly Hat That's not a banana. THIS is a banana., Thu 18 Oct 2012, 20:37, 10 replies)

White Van Man
I was driving out of Bristol on the M32 some years ago when a prat in a white van came up behind me and flashed. I ignore him. He flashed again. I ignored him. He cut the gap to a couple of feet and flashed vigorously. I ignored him, and continued to pootle along at 50mph in the middle lane.

At this point he decided to be a clever clogs and overtake me on the inside. If he had been a little less hasty and a little more observant, he might have noticed the road markings showing that it was about to diverge, which is why I was in the middle lane.

If he had been even more observant he might have noticed that the trailer I was towing had a glider in it, and was just over thirty feet long. Add the length of the VW Camper Van I was driving and he was now in a diverging lane, next to a wall of metal. He tried to speed up, but there were other cars ahead of him and he couldn't get past me. He tried to slow down and I, looking carefully straight ahead, slowed down to match him. White van next to me? Really? Can't say I noticed.

I considered waving as he headed off down the slip road to gawd knows where, but thought he might get cross.

TL;DR: Prat tried to undertake long vehicle, gets forced off motorway by other prat.
(ubergeekian, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 19:40, 6 replies)

probably came closer to dropping a shit rather than someone in it
after leaving uni i worked in a factory packing towbars for about 6 months. most days i would end up walking through the welding shop to fetch boxes or jigs or to look for someone. to make things interesting as i was walking past everyone beavering away welding towbars i would often push out the biggest farts possible safe in the knowledge that nobody could hear me over the sound of welding and that everyone was too engrossed in their work to see the strained look on my face.

i would then return back the way i came just in time to see 2 or 3 men arguing over who dropped one and to register my own disgust and inquire "which of you fucking gypos did that?"

back then i had a range of one end of a warehouse to the other with a single trouser eruption after a night at the local brewery
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 18:40, Reply)

Back in the mid 90's, I was working in a gold mine in the desert
We had no tv, radio was just sheep reports on shortwave, and we had one telephone for about 800 blokes. It was against this background when I found out the bloke I was sharing a house with had been given internet access. Now he owed me a favour, and with enough begging I was able to get him to reveal the password. Being a young bloke in my early 20's stuck out in the middle of nowhere with not a woman in sight, I immediately started looking at porn as fast as the 56k connection could stream.
Now, I had another mate who found out I had access, and again through begging and bribery he eventualy got the password off me. He wasn't so stingy, and soon had told a number of the other geos, surveyors and engineers.
A few weeks later the housemate who gave me the password was summoned to fly to head office to face a disciplinary panel. Apparently, all urls had been logged by the sysadmin. He was shown thick reams of paper with 1000s upon 1000s of porn urls and asked to explain himself. Luckily, he was able to point out that the only way he could have looked at that much porn was to have been sitting at his computer 24/7, furiously masterbating until raw, which given that he spent 12 hours a day underground seemed unlikely. While he said he might have given his password away, he didn't grass me or any others up, bless him. He did get permabanned from internet access, while I was granted it a few months later after making some bullshit claim that I needed it to research mineral types. However, never again did I make the error of looking at porn on the company internet. I took my porn the old fashioned way, with skin flick vhs's and jazz mags
( cumquat may will not be commenting further on the allegations, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 16:45, 2 replies)

It was my birthday
and two friends took my girlfriend and me out to dinner at a fairly posh restaurant. It looked to be a very pleasant evening, with food and wine and good company.

I had my cell phone with me- an admittedly crappy bit of work which had no vibrate mode that I ever found, and no way of silencing it when someone called. Unfortunately this was during the Bad Times in the divorce process, so I had to keep it on in case the kids called with an emergency. But if it started to ring, I had a folded napkin handy to muffle the sound to a whisper if it was a non-emergency call.

As luck would have it, of course, everyone I knew was trying to call me that night.

After the fourth or fifth call that I immediately muffled under the napkin, a guy at the table across the aisle and down one snarled "Answer your goddam phone!"

"I'm sorry," I said in my gentlest voice, "I have to keep in on in case my kids need me. I'll try to keep it quiet."

"Well then call your kids!"

"Ummm... look, I'm only keeping it on in case of an emergency. If they call I'll answer them; otherwise I'm covering it with this napkin-"

"Just answer your fucking phone!" he yelled.

The woman next to him and the couple across from them were looking increasingly uncomfortable through this. I tried again to apologize and explain, but he kept getting louder and angrier. His friends looked like they were ready to crawl away under the tables, and his woman was telling him loudly to shut up. My friends tried to intervene, but he started in on them as well.

Finally I used my most stentorian Brian Blessed voice, the drill sergeant tone that makes people jump, and announced, "Sir, you are drunk. Please take your friends' advice and quiet down." I said this with the most scorn I could muster.

The result was immediate, of course. He surged to his feet and his friends grabbed him and dragged him out the door, bellowing as he went.

The waitress approached with a look of terror in her eyes. "Sir, I'm so sorry! We could hear it all the way up at the front!"

I smiled up at her. "No worries. You had nothing to do with it. We're all fine."

She looked after the vanished group. "They were out at the bar for a couple of hours before their table was ready. And they had just opened a $270 bottle of wine, too."

I sat up. "They did? Well, it shouldn't be wasted, should it? Pass it on over!"

She glanced around to make sure no one was looking, then grabbed the bottle and handed it to me. She then got me a fresh glass and scurried off.

My friends were still buzzing with adrenaline. "I'm so sorry that this happened on your birthday!" she exclaimed, her cheeks red.

I laughed. "Why? Are you kidding? That was great! Look- he was a drunken blustering bully, right? Not only did I publicly tell him off and get his friends to drag him out of here, but I also made sure that he's not gonna get laid for about a month. And now I'm drinking his wine besides!"

And at the end of the meal the manager came and apologized, and comped us our meal. Result, mothafukka.
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 18 Oct 2012, 16:16, 38 replies)

Dear Daily Mail Editor


Everyone here told nasty jokes about are princess of harts and Maddy and Jade and they made me cry.
( Larry Death Anger Pain Fear Aggression, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 16:12, Reply)

childish revenge
after he "accidentally" split my head open on a ledge, i decided to get my brother in trouble by waiting till he was in the shower, then pouring a glass of water in his bed. mum thought he'd pissed the bed and, as he was 12, made him wash the sheets himself. not that funny, really, but the argument about not washing the sheets properly was, especially when mum yelled loud enough for the neighbour kids to hear: "IF YOU DON'T WANT TO WASH YOUR SHEETS, DON'T PISS YOUR BED!"
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 16:02, 3 replies)

A few years ago now
I got your mum into trouble.

Sorry about that.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 15:27, 4 replies)

FIRST
wankers
(Concerned of Tunbridge Wells "my apron comes down and crushes the handle", Thu 18 Oct 2012, 15:01, Reply)

Fire alarm
What kind of bloody idiot puts a fire alarm button INSIDE the boys' toilet at a secondary school, anyway?

There I was, washing my hands are a pretty satisfying mid-morning shit, when a couple of the school hardcases strode in, smashed the glass on the alarm button and ran off laughing at the success of their prank.

Naturally, I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and the words "Got you, you dreadful scrote", and I was frogmarched out in front of the school as the boy who set off the fire alarm.

Having never been in trouble ever before, I squealed like a little pig, so not only did I get the rap for the false alarm, but also for trying to pin it on a couple of poor, sweet innocent hardcases who would rip your bollocks off given half the chance, such as if you had accused them of setting off a fire alarm.

I don't mind admitting that I actually soiled myself when they cornered me later that day, only to have them thank me for doing their weeks' worth of after school detention for them. A bit of an escape, I thought, as the school caretaker set me to mucking out the toilets.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 14:46, 1 reply)

Diplomatic Immunity, Detective Riggs....
Years ago in my very first proper office job, I was pottering along happily and ineffectively working for catalogue that sold 'innovative' products, with another young lad called Kerry who had even less idea than me. He had got the job by virtue of being the son of the owner's best mate, and to give nepotism its due, was the only way he would ever have got a job of any description. Pleasant, but thick. He was also South African, which spawns an even more special kind of thick.
We used to have all sorts of fun making prank phone calls to him as he would believe pretty much anything, until one day I called to tell him I was from UK Immigration and that I was aware that he was working without a permit and liable for deportation.

I swear I had no idea that he really was working without a permit and liable for deportation. When I came back from the payphone, the place was in lockdown, office doors shut, and people looking very serious. He had rushed and told the big boss man, who had immediately mobilised his very expensive lawyers. Oops.

Kerry eventually reappeared looking ashen and muttering 'ohgodbru, thisisbadmun' over and over. I dragged him into the stairwell and explained that it was a wind up and begged him not to grass.

He didn't. Good lad. That was the second closest I have come to shitting myself at work.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Thu 18 Oct 2012, 14:35, 3 replies)

Crazy Tuesday
I have somewhat of a reputation for being an instigator for trouble amongst my friends. It’s not like I’m trying to get them into trouble but I often suggest silly things that often go wrong. The following story is what we named “Crazy Tuesday”.

After having a bad day at uni (girl problems, work, money etc.), I decided to get very pissed with a good mate (James) and the whole night ended up becoming very excessive and dangerous. After helping a man light his cigarette outside the campus bar, he offered us some small paper bags (I thought either speed or MDMA) which sent us into overdrive and made our actions and decisions very poor (after already hitting the bar hard for a few hours)! This resulted in the following actions:

• Ironing board surfing down some steps which resulted in James busting his arm and arse
• Fire extinguisher fight which resulted in James being sick (the powder isn’t very tasty)
• Climbing on the roof of the geography building and nearly falling off (both of us this time)

The evening ended when I suggested James climb through a window (to a ground floor flat where we could see food in the kitchen). My poor friend ran down the slope to the window and ended up doing a superman through the glass! He had to have a few stitches from that injury!


This is James in front the window that defeated him (note the perspex replacement window and bandages).

Thing is, we both never learn! Last year we caught up in Birmingham and again, like always, things get silly and we end up drunk doing power slides through leaves.... this is how James ended the evening....


(RJWEcology is just sharpening his axe on, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 14:18, 22 replies)

What really gets on my nerves
Is people answering QOTW a week after a question's closed.
(Vigilante Man weeps because you're stupid., Thu 18 Oct 2012, 14:03, Reply)

Sorry Paul
As a student, I had a job in Uncle Sam's Hamburger Express in West Street, Brighton. I worked for a while with another guy, Paul, who was from Haywards Heath, and had been transferred down to Brighton for the busy Christmas/New Year period.

I was constantly short of time and cash, trying to work full time there and study full time at (what was then) Brighton Poly (Pharmacy, which was 35 hours a week at college, plus study time). I shared in a grotty, woodlouse-infested shithole of a ground floor flat in Whitehawk Road, and could barely afford that.

My dad died that January, so I had to go home for the funeral etc., for about three weeks in the end. Three weeks of not working. I was already overdrawn, and poor old Paul took pity on my sob story and lent me £50 so I could make that month's rent; this was 1989 so that was a lot more than one night's beer money, even for Brighton.

Paul got transferred back to his home store in HH in about March, and I struggled through the rest of the year, flunked my degree and went home permanently with what was at the time a ludicrously high overdraft (about £1500 - barely a term's student loan by the standards or not very much later, and bugger all these days). By the time I was in a position to be able to pay Paul back, I had completely lost touch with him.

Then last year I got back in touch with another ex-Sammer on Facebook, who worked with Paul at the time. Apparently, lending me £50 put him on the breadline himself, and about six months later he lost his flat because he'd fallen behind on his own rent, and slept on the streets for a while. Neither of us knew what happened to him after that.

It could have been a wind-up on FB, but I have the horrible sense that my Good Samaritan put himself on the streets so I wouldn't have to be there. Thanks Paul. If you ever read this, get in touch; I wouldn't say I'm flush, but I can certainly afford to pay you back with interest.
( shinyshinyscalp less a man, more a way of life, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 13:41, 6 replies)

Fir..
d.
Bollocks.
( His Popiness the Hole Invaded Poland on, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 13:16, Reply)

MUUUUUUM
He pushed in front of me...
(LetsGetDownToIt, Thu 18 Oct 2012, 13:14, Reply)

alright

( Pig Bodine., Thu 18 Oct 2012, 13:11, Reply)